Seasons of Love
by wazlib88
Summary: "So perhaps, both the good things and the bad things that had happened to her were exactly what she'd needed. Life wasn't like a fairy tale, and she couldn't expect things to simply fall into place because she was ready for them to." Lavender Brown finds her way to her very own happy ending.


A/N: Hello all! The idea for this piece came to me in the shower after practice this morning, so naturally I wrote it out in two hours and edited it during class. I hope you enjoy it. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters associated with Harry Potter no matter how much I wish I did.

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.(Summer).

When Lavender Brown was fourteen, Seamus Finnegan asked her to the Yule Ball, and she had never been so excited.

It wasn't so much because it was Seamus who'd asked her, really, but the fact that any boy at all had thought of _her _as an eligible was enough to make her heart skip a beat in anticipation. She immediately sent away for the nicest dress robes she could reasonably afford, and she and Parvati spent weeks poring over _Witch Weekly_'s style guide in search of the perfect hairstyle and make-up combination. It seemed almost silly that the thought of having perfectly kissable lips had never crossed her mind before, when now, there seemed to be nothing more essential.

"We're going to feel like proper princesses, aren't we?" Lavender gushed the evening before the Ball, as she and Parvati admired their dress robes and finalized their accessory choices.

"And it's about time, too," Parvati added. "Our school robes do nothing for our figures."

The big day was spent in a flurry of preparation. Lavender spent hours painstakingly curling every lock of her hair and pinning it _just so_, and despite having made a choice the night before, she tried on no less than four pairs of high-heeled shoes before settling on just the right ones. But it was all worth it, because when she looked in the mirror, she felt more beautiful than she ever had in all her life. And even better, when Seamus saw her, his eyes widened to the size of Galleons as he rushed to wrap a hand about her waist.

He didn't take his hands off of her all night. She didn't mind, really; he was quite the gentleman about it during the Ball. He pulled her close while they were dancing, and he rested a warm hand on the small of her back. Then, just before midnight, he pulled even closer to whisper in her ear: "Let's go somewhere a bit more private." She felt something stir within her as he led her out of the Great Hall; _maybe_, she thought, _this is what falling in love feels like._

So when Seamus pulled her into an empty classroom and began to kiss her in earnest, she responded with the utmost enthusiasm. She had seen Seamus with enough girls to realize that he knew what he was doing much better than she did, so she simply followed his lead and allowed him to set the pace. And it felt _amazing_.

So she didn't stop him when he picked her up and set her on the desk, and she didn't stop him when his hands began to wander a bit outside the strictly "gentlemanly" realm. It was all happening faster than she could form rational thoughts, so she didn't object when he helped her out of her dress robes, and she didn't say a word in protest as he began to take off his.

It hurt. In more ways than one, too, because he couldn't quite meet her eyes when he'd finished. They didn't talk much on the way back to the Gryffindor Common Room, and it was all Lavender could do not to cry when Parvati asked her about her night as she combed out her now ruined curls.

It wasn't until weeks later that she finally related the full story to her best friend, and she wished she'd done it sooner, because once Parvati had finished berating Seamus and threatening him with every hex, jinx, and curse in their textbooks, she wrapped her arm around Lavender and asked, "Are you alright?"

Lavender nodded. "I think so," she replied. "I wouldn't do it again, but it's happened, hasn't it?"

Parvati leaned her head against Lavender's sympathetically. "I'm sorry that twat ruined everything."

Lavender swallowed back tears as she said, "It's okay, really. I didn't try to stop him."

"Well, at least you know to wait next time," Parvati pointed out. "Until you know it's for real."

Lavender couldn't take it anymore; she broke down. Parvati sat with her all the while, stroking her hair and murmuring words of comfort as Lavender wallowed in her regret.

.(Autumn).

When Lavender Brown was fifteen, she went on a date with Anthony Goldstein.

Lavender had never so much as spoken to Anthony in her life, but Padma Patil had taken the liberty of setting them up for the Valentine's Day Hogsmeade visit.

"He'll be just perfect for you, Lav!" Padma gushed as she and Parvati worked at straightening her hair on that February morning. No one mentioned that Padma had first tried to set up Anthony with Parvati, before the latter had declared him "too nerdy for a boyfriend."

It was true; Anthony was far from the best-looking boy in their year, but Lavender still blushed when he met her in the Great Hall holding a single red rose.

"I thought about getting you lavenders," he explained apologetically, "but I don't think they sell those much this time of year."

Now, Anthony was a proper gentleman. There were none of the warm, sensual touches that had characterized her date with Seamus last year. Instead, there was a courteous hand lightly cupping her elbow as she pointed something out in the window of a shop, or a sweet smile as he held the door open for her. Their conversation flowed freely, and Lavender wasn't sure if she'd ever laughed so much in her life.

But in the end, there was no spark. Even with Seamus, there had been something there, something that had stopped her from stopping him. Talking with Anthony was lovely, but even the _thought_ of kissing him…Lavender wasn't sure she bring herself to think of him as more than a wonderful friend. Luckily, he seemed to be on the same page, and the day ended with a platonic kiss on the cheek.

Parvati and Padma looked disappointed when she related the story back to them, but Lavender could be nothing less than content. "This time," she explained with a smile, "I don't regret a single bit of it."

.(Winter).

When Lavender Brown was sixteen, she snogged Ron Weasley. A lot.

She wasn't stupid. She knew he held a flame for Hermione Granger. Everyone did, of course. She knew that his eyes would wander across the room to that familiar corner while they took a break from snogging, and she also knew that even the slightest mention of Viktor Krum or Cormac McLaggen would make him kiss her fiercely again.

But she really, _really _liked him. He was sweet, loyal, funny, and quite good-looking on top of it. The logical part of her knew it was a bad idea, but there was a louder voice inside her head. _You can change him_, she told herself. _You can make him fall for you_.

At first, she thought he was. He certainly seemed to enjoy the time he spent with her, and he still seemed pleasantly stunned every time she paid him a compliment. And besides, he was the only boy who had ever wanted her for longer than one date. A little crush he'd once had on her roommate couldn't change the fact that he was _her_ boyfriend. She tried to convince herself, but she wasn't completely daft. When they returned from the Christmas holidays, Lavender could feel him slipping away.

So she squeezed tighter. _Maybe he just wants more_, she told herself. _Maybe he's just trying to be a gentleman and wait until I'm ready. _ She didn't have any experience of _that_ nature other than her ill-fated evening with Seamus, and truth be told, she wasn't particularly eager to give it another go. But if that's what Ron wanted, she'd do it. She'd do anything for him, really. That's what it meant to be in love, didn't it? _And besides_, she told herself, _it'll be different this time. He really likes you. He has to._

But every time Lavender let her hands wander, Ron would jump away immediately, as though they had scalded him. _Perhaps he's just nervous_, she told herself. So she tried to tell him that she was ready, that they could do whatever he wanted. But anytime she started on that subject, he would loudly announce that he really ought to study, and that yes, he wanted to do so alone.

So she wasn't surprised, really, when she saw him coming down from his dormitory with Hermione. But it still hurt like hell.

"Why couldn't he just love me back?" Lavender whispered ashamedly to Parvati later that night.

"You can't force these things, babe," Parvati responded wisely. "It's got to happen on its own."

Lavender nodded as a fresh round of tears made their way down her face. She knew Parvati was right. _But that hardly makes my heart any less shattered now._

.(Spring).

When Lavender Brown was seventeen, she very nearly died.

Sometimes, she wished she had. She knew it was horrible to think such things, and she knew that she was really very lucky, but recovering from her injuries was the most frustrating and difficult thing she'd ever done. Sometimes, the pain was so sharp that she could barely breathe, but the Healers wouldn't give her any more potions for it.

"You're on so many as it is," the kind-faced nurse had explained to her. "We wouldn't want you to become dependent on them, would we?"

_We might,_ she thought to herself, _if it would make me feel more like a human being._

The very worst part, though, was that it wouldn't go away. It wouldn't ever go away. Even once she'd left St. Mungo's, and even months after she'd been completely weaned off her potions, it didn't go away. She still had to live with her scars, visible and not.

Perhaps it was a trivial thing to complain about, putting on make-up had never been so exhausting. But she had to do it. It wasn't even because of her own vanity, really. It was simply that she couldn't stand being on the receiving end of anyone else's pity. It didn't work. Even the best cover-up product couldn't make the marks disappear, and even Parvati could hardly offer her any words of encouragement.

"You're as beautiful as ever," she would tell Lavender every time they saw each other. She appreciated it, she really did, but it didn't _help._ Nothing really helped; she was simply getting along as best she could.

She was doing an okay job of it, too. Six months after the Battle, she was well enough to enroll in the Healer training program. The medical terms were difficult to learn, but she did her best because she knew it was what she was meant to do. _Maybe_, she thought, _I can really help someone. Maybe,_ _I can be someone who understands._

Eventually, it was enough to make her genuinely smile. It was enough for her to keep on going, stronger than ever. After awhile, she began to think of her attack as a blessing in disguise. She began to feel as though she really was lucky.

So, by some miraculous happenstance of the universe, she found herself feeling perfectly content, even humming carols under her breath, as she bustled along down Diagon Alley on Christmas Eve. She felt as though nothing could stop her - that is, of course, until she ran straight into someone coming out of one of the shops, causing him to drop the large stack of boxes he was carrying with a loud shatter.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry!" Lavender fretted, setting her shopping bags down and drawing her wand to assist in repairing the broken objects - which, it turned out, were dishes from the restaurant the man had just exited.

"It's alright, it really is," he insisted, laying a hand on her arm to stop her. His touch, both warm and friendly, caused her to look at him properly for the first time. He was quite handsome: toned muscles, striking jaw-line, and slightly tousled, soft-looking brown hair. She didn't quite recognize the expression she found upon his face - his blue eyes sparkling, the left side of his mouth tugging toward a grin - but she knew that she liked it.

"Hi," he said after a beat of silence. "I'm Scott."

"I'm Lavender," she replied. "I'm so sorry, really, I wasn't watching where I was going, and-"

"It doesn't matter," Scott dismissed. "I don't mind breaking some cheap plates if I get to meet a pretty girl."

Lavender laughed. "Nice line," she remarked, brushing her hair back from her face to reveal the traces of her scars. He didn't balk.

"And you're smart, too," he observed, his lopsided grin widening as he spoke.

"No, you're just transparent," she corrected him matter-of-factly.

"And here I thought I had a talent," he shook his head in mock dejection. "You ought to give me some pointers for next time, eh?"

"Tell you what," Lavender replied wryly, "I'll help you repair these dishes, and maybe I can refine your technique while I'm at it."

"I like the sound of that," Scott agreed, and Lavender couldn't help but return his smile.

It turned out that the things that had happened in the past didn't seem to matter quite as much as they had at the time, but they _had_ brought her to Diagon Alley at that exact moment on that chilly Christmas Eve. So perhaps, both the good things and the bad things that had happened to her were exactly what she'd needed. Life wasn't like a fairy tale, and she couldn't expect things to simply fall into place because _she_ was ready for them to. But when she was eighteen, when she least suspected it, Lavender Brown met the love of her life, and the rest, as they say, was her very own happy ending.

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A/N: I am doing NaNoWriMo starting tomorrow, and I have to say this was a great warmup! Hopefully the seasons made sense - Seamus was summer because everything was a bit heated, Anthony was autumn because it was pleasant but not terribly exciting, Ron was winter because he was obviously a bit cold due to the whole being madly in love with Hermione thing, and Scott was spring because it's like a promise - and his warm touch sort is a sort of awakening.

I'm planning to try to rip out a Ron/Hermione piece later today as well, since I'm probably not going to be able to write any fic next month. Thank you for reading and Happy Halloween!


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